11 July 2007. Low gray clouds with trailing edges, touch of blue cutting through from below. All caution to the winds, mates, it's a merchant ship. "If you can only get them to meet you, once they're there, they're sold. Meet your neighbor..." Overheard conversations, avenue advice--how the town works, a little of this, a little of that. Yesterday: low clouds with trailing edges, two girls dancing, in a narrow hallway. From immobility to everything, in an instant, movement of the arms first, then the shoulders, feel of the beat--except that I watch in total silence--not a sound, just the flickering image of two figures in motion, Greek priestesses in daily dress, smiles, slippers and cut-off jeans...
Emma's birthday today: she's ten years old. Jane Austin, astronomy, flowers...
"I think it's gonna work...!"
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